


steal my heart and hold my tongue

by momentsinlove



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bed & Breakfast, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cuddling & Snuggling, Feelings, Flirting, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Slow Burn, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-07-19 09:02:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7354528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momentsinlove/pseuds/momentsinlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George owns a bed and breakfast. Alexander has no choice but to stay there, thankful it's only for a few days.</p><p>That is until mother nature has other ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you guys think, as always comments and kudos are so appreciated.
> 
> Come talk to me over at @ loversoutoftime on tumblr.

Alexander found the place while searching for hotels near Alexandria. It was a last minute trip and apparently there seemed to be an influx of people who also needed a place to stay. So he abandons the idea of staying at a hotel and opts for the next best thing, although he had to admit to himself the idea of staying at at a bed and breakfast seems more like something an elderly couple would do while sightseeing. He has to remind himself that he'll only need it for three days so he will just have to make due.

It's with that thought process that has him booking his stay at one _Mount Vernon Bed and Breakfast_ for the duration of his stay. And he does have to admit, it sounds nice enough, doesn't have to pay for any extra food which sounds heavenly to his already narrow budget these days. He enters his info and gets the confirmation immediately, putting it all into his phone for the following week. He isn't exactly looking forward to the trip but there isn't much else he can do but bite the bullet and accept his fate.

_____

Alexander lands at Dulles around 5 pm the following Wednesday. His stomach growls as he waits for his Uber on the curb outside the airport and he momentarily debates whether or not he should stop and grab something to eat but decides against it when his driver pulls up. He will just have to hope the guy running the bed and breakfast has something for him to eat when his car arrives. Alexander puts his carry on bag into the trunk and gets into the car, closes his eyes as the car heads off to his destination. 

He makes small talk with the driver about his life and work, grateful when his car pulls up in front of a house that seems comically large. It can't honestly be real Alexander thinks but it is indeed real as he steps out of the car. He grabs his bag and heads to the front door, reaches to knock but the door opens before he can do so. 

"Hello, you must be Alexander. I'm George Washington, I'm the owner here," George says extending his hand.

"Yeah I'm Alexander, good to meet you," Alexander says, shaking hands.

George reaches to take his bag and Alexander opens his mouth to protest, he doesn't need to be treated like he's someone important. But he can't get the words out so George takes his suitcase and heads up the stairs. Alexander follows him and is shown to a nicely sized room that houses a queen sized bed, a nightstand, and a dresser. It's sparse but Alexander doesn't mind, not when he'll be gone soon enough.

"Thanks for taking my bag up," Alexander says, moving to lay back on the bed.

"It's my pleasure. I will leave you alone if you need some rest, I have dinner cooking and it should be done in about 45 minutes," George says.

"Great, thanks. Just give me a shout," Alexander replies as he feels his eyes start to close. He really could do with a quick nap.

"I will. Sleep well," George says and Alexander opens his eyes to watch George leave, closing the door behind him.

Alexander rolls to his stomach and buries his face into the pillows. He could get used to a bed like this he thinks as his mind drifts off.

_____

Alexander jumps at the knock on the door, eyes slow to open and he remembers he must have slept with his contacts in. He mentally kicks himself as he reaches for his phone and digs it out of his pocket and checks the time.

"Alexander? Dinner is ready," George says.

"Be down in a second, thanks," Alexander responds, scrolling through his missed texts and emails. He will respond to the most pressing ones before slipping his phone back into his pocket. He moves to the edge of the bed and gets off it, bending down so can open his suitcase, digging around till he finds his small toiletries bag. Alexander opens it up and takes his eye drops out, tilting his head back.

He blinks away the tears and wipes at his eyes with his arm before standing up and heading out to the hallway and down the stairs. His stomach grumbles once more as the smell of food hits his nostrils when he is halfway down the stairs and he turns left to enter into the dining room he saw when he first came inside. It's ornately decorated, as if the place hasn't been truly updated in centuries save for a few modern touches. 

Alexander goes to one of the chairs and sits, stares at the fine china and silverware impeccably laid out. Alexander can't help but let a snort escape, even if he knows it's slightly rude. It just seems all a bit overdone in his opinion but then again, he is staying at a, _rustic and historic house not far from downtown D.C. with old world charm._

"I hope you don't mind that it will be just us for dinner. Normally this place has more people but the off season means it can be rather empty," George says entering the dining room with a pot in hand.

"Oh it's no problem, I mean I'm only here for three days anyway and I'm in the city for one of them so it isn't an issue," Alexander responds honestly. 

"Well if you need anything while you are here, I will be happy to help. Anyway I made a chili for dinner, it'll be good with this cold weather we have been having," George says and Alexander watches as he puts the put down on the table.

"Sounds good to me, I didn't really eat much this morning so I'm starving, "Alexander says, taking his bowl and going to grab the ladle and scoop some chili into his bowl.

George leaves only to return almost instantly with a few other items. Alexander looks and grabs a couple of crackers George has brought to the table and crumbles them up into his chili. 

"There is water on the table but if you want something else, I have tea and soda in the fridge," George says.

Alexander looks up and smiles and says, "Water is good, thanks."

George sits and makes his own bowl, Alexander reaching for the silver water pitcher and pours himself a glass. He studies George, looks at him properly for the first time since he arrived. He's definitely handsome, Alexander thinks, appreciate his broad shoulders. 

"So it is just you here or do you have someone else, wife or kids?" Alexander asks.

George looks at him and smiles before saying, "It is just me. This home has been in my family for many years and while my job is nice, I thought having the income and company would be good to have."

"What is it you do?"

"I work the US military, although mostly desk duty these days," George says.

"Oh nice, I was in the Army before I went to law school," Alexander says as he looks around, "This place is pretty nice, a lot bigger than my own apartment."

"It is spacious, that's why I think it is nice to have guests who can help fill the rooms. Somedays it is awfully lonely but sometimes I don't mind the solitude.," George says.

Alexander watches him and even if he wants to know more, he certainly won't pry into George's business. They barely know each other anyway and in a few days Alexander will be back in the city and he will likely never see George again. Alexander eats his bowl of chili, occasionally asking George about this or that, answering a few of George's questions.

They finish dinner and Alexander stands to help clear the table but George waves a hand at him, says, "No, please, it is my duty. Help yourself to the house, there is a TV in the living room and a small office down the hall if you need to work. The internet name and password are written on a scrap of paper on the desk."

Alexander nods and he supposes he should do work for tomorrow's meeting anyway. He goes upstairs to unpack his laptop and charger, taking them down as he finds the office. It's cozy, with a small fireplace and a couple of bookshelves. Alexander mulls over the book titles as his computer starts up, smiles at a few of the titles. George has good taste in books he thinks, or at least someone did at some point judging by a few worn covers. 

The books are left forgotten as Alexander goes to sit back down, plugging in the info for the internet and once he is connected he immediately opens up his email. If there is anyone he doesn't want to communicate with, it's Burr but they are co-counsel on this case and it would be extremely unprofessional for Alexander to keep Aaron out of the loop on his findings. 

Alexander writes up his defense for the next day, hopes he can perhaps get his client to plead out so they don't have to go to a lengthy trial. Burr continues to email him about everything little thing and Alexander can't help but feel his annoyance grow along with a headache. He saves his work and gets up from his computer so he can stretch, feels his shoulders pop as he does so. The urge to roam around the house sticks in his head and while he assumes George won't mind, Alexander doesn't feel completely comfortable roaming just yet.

So Alexander thumbs through the books once more, settling on a book of poems that looks as if it has seen better days. Alexander sits in the upright chair that is next to the fire and he grins at the sight; he feels like he is on the set of a movie. All he needs is a glass of expensive liquor and for the fireplace to be lit. The lamp from the desk gives off enough light for Alexander to carefully skim through the book, taking note of the various bits of writing on the margins. Whoever owned this book before treasured it.

"Alexander are you doing okay?" George asks from the other side of the door and Alexander nearly jumps at his voice.

"Yes I'm doing fine, thank you for asking," Alexander replies, putting the book down on the table next to the chair and going to open the door.

George is standing there, no longer in his jeans and sweater from before but now wearing a pair of fine silk pajamas in a nice dark red. Alexander eyes them up appreciatively before meeting George's gaze once more. If George noticed Alexander looking, he doesn't say anything about it.

"I am going to head up to my room but please, feel free to enjoy the house. If you need anything to eat or drink, the kitchen is all yours. The bathroom you will be using is the door across the hall from your room. There is everything you need in it including towels. If there is anything else I can do, please let me know," George says.

"I'll be good, I really appreciate it. I will probably be out of here before you are awake so I'm not sure I'll be around for breakfast," Alexander says.

"I understand. There is some fruit on the counter if you want to snag something before you go tomorrow. I hope you sleep well Alexander" George says.

"You too. I hope I'll see you when I get back," Alexander says.

George doesn't answer just gives him a small smile before turning around and heading towards the stairs. Alexander watches him go, waits before he hears what he assumes is George's door closing before venturing out. He knows he doesn't have to be careful, Washington told him exactly the opposite, but it's still someone else's home and he should be respectful of that fact.

Alexander heads back to the main living room and spends an ridiculously long amount of time checking out every antique, careful not to touch them as he eyes up the details on various vases and dishes. Clearly Washington was not joking about all of this being handed down. Alexander can only imagine how long it must take Washington to keep all of this clean.

The one thing Alexander does notice as he travels to another room, is the lack of photos. Alexander assumes George must have some family photos somewhere and although it is none of Alexander's business, he finds it odd that there are none in the obvious spots, like above the fireplace or on any of the various tables.

But then again, perhaps George is just like Alexander and does not have a need to remember the past or people from it.

Alexander takes a break from his snooping to grab himself another glass of water and an apple from the counter, heads back into the office to gather his things together, turning off the light as he makes his way back upstairs. He deposits his computer onto the bed and reaches for his phone to sit on the bedside table. It's still fairly early, not his usual 2 or 3 am bedtime but this trip in some ways allows him the chance to get at least one decent night of sleep.

But first he needs a shower and Alexander moves to grab his toiletry bag taking it with him across the hall, careful to keep the noise down in case Washington is asleep. Alexander shuts the door and strips his clothes off, reaching to turn the shower on, waiting for the right temperature before stepping in. The hot water feels great and the pressure is one he isn't used to in New York. This shower allows some of his aching muscles to loosen up, his shoulders less tense than earlier in the day.

As much as Alexander wants to stay under the hot water for hours, he knows he shouldn't use up all of George's water, no matter how great it feels. He reaches for the knobs to turn the water off before grabbing an overly fluffy towel, drying his hair before using it on his body, wrapping the towel around his waist. He normally would have brought his clothes with him but since he knows it is just himself and Washington, he isn't as worried.

Alexander brushes his teeth and removes his contacts, slipping his glasses on before turning the bathroom light off, stepping out into the hallway. Alexander pushes the door to his room open, carefully shutting it behind himself as he reaches for his towel, pulling it away from his body. He looks around and sees a hook on the wall and places the towel on it to dry out. Alexander rifles through his bag to pull on a clean pair of underwear and sweats, forgoing his shirt. The house seems to be warmly lit and he knows he'll only wake up sweating if he puts one on.

He goes about his business, doing whatever else he needs to before bed. He makes sure his phone is plugged in with the volume on his alarm loud enough so that he won't oversleep. Once he feels settled Alexander reaches for the lamp and turns the light off, snuggling further into pillows. 

_____

Alexander wakes before his alarm. It's a habit and usually it means he is bound to be tired for the rest of the day, relying on caffeine to keep him awake. But this time it is different having had a decent amount of sleep the night before. Alexander slowly sits up, reaches to turn his alarm off before putting his phone back down, plucking his glasses up from next to his phone and putting them on.

He's up and out of bed, figures he might as well see what he can throw together quickly for food before he needs to get ready to face the day. Alexander is surprised to see George in the kitchen, no longer wearing his pajamas but instead wearing jeans and a long sleeve shirt that is rolled to his elbows, ARMY written across it in yellow letters. George turns and sees Alexander, his eyes wide before his face softens and his lips turn up in a smile.

"Good morning, I hope I didn't wake you. I hope you'll be able to stay for breakfast," George says as he pulls a few eggs out from the fridge.

"Yeah I can probably snag a few minutes to eat. Let me go change real quick," Alexander says. 

It's only when he's back upstairs that he realizes what he must look like, wearing ratty sweatpants with no shirt and his glasses on. No wonder George looked so startled by Alexander. It doesn't take Alexander long to get ready, reaching to tie his shoes before he steps across the hall to brush his teeth and slick his hair back. It's only once his glasses are off and his contacts are back in that he ascends back downstairs, phone firmly in his pocket.

When he gets back into the kitchen Alexander smells the familiar scent of bacon cooking. It's pretty impressive to see multiple skillets going, Washington managing them all with ease. Alexander sits at the bar and pulls out his phone, goes over what his plan for the meeting is and knows it'll be a long day, although he is comforted by the thought of sending Burr next time. That's only if life takes pity on him. 

"How do you take your coffee?" George asks.

"Oh one scoop of sugar and a little cream, thank you," 

George leaves the food for a second to pour Alexander's and fixing it the way he likes it. Alexander takes it as George slides it over the counter, their fingers briefly ghosting against each other. Neither move as they look one another in the eye, Alexander slowly lifting the cup to his lips and taking a sip of the coffee. George moves to face the stove and he finishes cooking, moving the food from skillets to plates and Alexander licks his lips at the sight of George's arms.

Alexander accepts his food with a thanks as he quickly eats, knows he is pushing his luck by sitting down to enjoy George's homemade breakfast. Even if it is worth it. Alexander finishes his last bite and checks the time on his watch, swears softly under his breath as he reaches to pull out his phone to call for an Uber. That is until George speaks.

"I can take you into the city if you are ready. I need to stop by the store anyway so I don't mind," George says.

Alexander looks up from his phone and cocks his head and he wonders if George is like this with all his guests. His first guess would tell him no, that George is not this accommodating, not that Alexander minds one bit. It's why Alexander puts his phone into his briefcase and hops down from his bar stool. He gathers his things and follows George out to the garage and gets into what Alexander thinks is a ridiculously oversize truck. He doesn't understand the need for them but he supposes in George's case, it serves its purpose. 

The ride isn't terribly long, George following the directions that Alexander has on his phone. It's mostly silent, Alexander happy to look at the sights along the way. It is clear George isn't much of a talker and while Alexander is the opposite, he can respect George's want for silence. 

George pulls up Alexander's destination, waits till Alexander is halfway out of the truck before he says, "Feel free to call me later, I don't mind coming to pick you up."

Alexander looks up to meet George's face and shrugs, says, "It'll be kind of late. I can probably just take an Uber back. Thanks for dropping me off," Alexander says.

He doesn't hear George's response as he shuts the door. He expects George to drive away immediately but he can hear the sound of the engine running as he makes his way to the office door. Iit is only once he is inside that he turns to see George finally pulling away.

_____

Alexander fully expects it'll be a long day but is surprised by just how exhausting it truly is. He finally gets the go ahead to leave, exiting the building and he sees the ground lightly coated in a soft dusting of snow. Alexander checks his watch first which reads after 9 pm and then his phone to make sure the time is right. He reaches a hand up to carefully rub at his eyes and this point, he's equal parts pissed off and hungry. All he wants is to head back to George's place so he can go to sleep and wake up in time for his flight. 

He's not comforted by the thought that he will most likely be coming back to D.C. sooner rather than later.

He spots a still open Chinese restaurant across the street and Alexander jogs over to it, orders his food to go and waits for it, idly emailing Burr back. Next time it will be Burr who make this trip, doesn't care that the man has a wife and young child. Then again maybe Alexander is just bitter about the fact he has nothing to go home too. Which is his own fault really.

Alexander suppresses a sigh as his order is called and Alexander pays for his food and heads out, opening his Uber app as he steps outside. Next time he thinks, he'll just shell out the cash and get a rental car. He wonders if it would be significantly easier, although D.C. traffic seems like the 9th level of hell. Not only that he hopes to stay somewhere far closer than George's place next time.

Despite the distance, Alexander manages to get back to George's place rather quickly, no doubt due to the fact that it's rather late and the snow that is now coming down harder than before.

he checks the door and finds it unlocked and he quietly makes his way inside, shutting the door and locking it before making his way up the stairs to his room. The house seems quiet and dark which suggest to Alexander that George is most likely asleep. Alexander opens the door to his room and closes it with his free hand, going over to his bed and spreading his food out. Even if it's half warm now he stomach won't mind, he just needs something to help curb the hunger pains. He takes out his laptop and goes over the notes he took, fixes whatever little mistakes that are there, adding some new thoughts to a couple of paragraphs before he saves it and closes his laptop down.

There is a knock at his door and Alexander swallows his food before saying, "Come in."

George steps inside once again wearing his silk pajamas. Alexander forces his eyes to stay on George's face this time, doesn't want to make the man uncomfortable even if George seems to be oblivious to Alexander's roaming eyes.

"I see you made it home safely. The news says there is a storm coming our way, I was worried you might get caught in it," George says.

"I didn't know. Hopefully it won't be so bad, I'd like to catch my flight in the morning," Alexander responds.

"Well if it is and you are stuck, you are welcome to stay here free of charge," George says as he stifles back a yawn.

"Thanks, I appreciate that. Anyway, I am sure I'll see you before I go in the morning but I want to says thanks for being so nice man, it's been honestly the best part of this trip," Alexander says honestly.

George smiles with teeth and Alexander feels it hit his gut. He would honestly strip down naked and beg George to touch him but he has enough decency to not do that. Instead Alexander returns the smile, biting his lower lip as he lets his gaze briefly roam over George's body.

"You're welcome. I should let you sleep now. I'll see you in the morning," George says and with that he exits the room, closing Alexander's door.

Alexander grabs his trash, crumples it up and tosses it in the small garbage can before making his way to the bathroom to do what he needs before bed. When he gets back to his room he leaves the door half open, not bothering to close it all the way. He slips down to his boxers, pulling his sweatpants on and he worms his way under the blankets settling comfortably on his stomach, head half under the pillows.

He closes his eyes but sleep doesn't come immediately, instead he thinks about George, thinks about the fact he could definitely see the outline of George's cock through his pajamas and how much he wants to slide his mouth along George's cock, to feel the silk on his lips. To taste George's cock, to wrap his lips around George. Alexander groans into the sheets, drags his hips along the mattress, desperate for some sort of friction. 

Alexander bites down on the pillow, muffling his moans as he thinks about George bending him over the bed, mouth kissing down Alexander's back before he spreads Alexander open, George's tongue pressing into him. Alexander erratically thrusts his hips into the mattress and he comes hard, spilling into his boxers. He groans, dropping his head down onto the bed. He should really get up and clean himself off he thinks but he feels his body relaxin, his mind clear of all thoughts except for sleep. So he closes his eyes and tells himself he'll worry about the mess in the morning. 

_____


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took like a month, between writers block and moving across the country, I didn't have a lot of time to write.
> 
> But here it is, hopefully the next part will be up much faster. Sorry it is so short but I hope the next one is much longer!

Alexander does not sleep much that night. Varying thoughts occupy his mind, some of George and the guilt brewing over his own actions. The others thinking of the storm, the way it reminds him of the hurricane that destroyed his town. Whatever the thoughts are, they do not allow Alexander to fully embrace sleep.

It's just before dawn when Alexander gives up on rest and throws his blankets off with a sigh, shivering when the cold air hits his skin. He's exhausted but that isn't too off from his normal feeling as he can't remember the last time he truly slept. Alexander showers quickly, washes away the dried come that was left behind on his hip and thigh. It makes his cheeks flush with embarrassment and he can only hope that George remains willfully ignorant of the whole ordeal.

When he's done, Alexander heads back to his room to pull on the warmest clothes he has which consists of his old Columbia hoodie and a pair of ratty sweatpants that are far too big and he wonders when and how he acquired them. Either way they do the job of warming him up. 

Alexander grabs his computer and goes downstairs, expecting to find it empty as he assumes George is still asleep. But he's instead greeted with the sight of George standing in front of the floor length window, dressed similarly in a pair of sweatpants and a thick pullover sweater. George turns from the window when Alexander steps into the room, gives him a smile.

"How did you sleep?" George asks.

"Alright, not great but I'll manage," Alexander replies.

"Well at least you have the chance to catch up on some rest. Anyway, I'm going to start breakfast," George says on his way to the kitchen.

"Thanks."

Alexander opens up his laptop and starts it up, emails Burr once it is ready to let him know he will not be home for the next few days. He can still work while he is away and to be honest, a few more days away from the office isn't exactly unappealing. It gives him a chance to not have Burr breathing down his neck.

As he types away, Alexander barely registers the plate of food and cup of coffee being placed on the table next to him. He pulls his headphones free and looks to George who has settled comfortably in the large leather recliner with his own plate of food. 

"Sorry I didn't hear you," Alexander says, moving his computer to the side as he takes the plate of food.

"Don't worry about it, I know you must be busy with work, even in this storm," George says with a wave of his hand.

It's incredibly true - despite the blizzard happening outside, Alexander's work hasn't slowed, judging by the hundreds of unread emails, most of them from Burr, and a million documents to sort through for the next meeting with the prosecution. This is no vacation even if he's dressed in old sweatpants and sitting on a plush, oversized couch.

Alexander eats before the food goes cold, glances over at George and looks away before he's caught, focusing on the TV as George flicks through the television channels. He settles on reruns of Law and Order: SVU and Alexander has to suppress a snort at his choice, not because the show is bad, but because he knows how unbelievable it can be at times (it's the lawyer in him).

Instead of making a snarky comment Alexander stretches and puts his plate down, scoots to the other side of the couch so he is closer to George, only a few feet of space between his side of the couch and George's chair. 

"Why did you decide to rent this place out?" Alexander asks

"It was my wife's idea. She loved this house, loved showing it off. She wanted something to do and she got the whole thing up and running," George says quietly, staring down at his coffee mug.

"It sounds like she really loved what she did," Alexander says softly.

"She did. This house was everything to her. It's probably why I couldn't sell it even if I wanted to."

Alexander doesn't know what to say, doesn't want to sound insensitive or pry too much into George's personal life. After all it's not his business and if George wants to share that information with him well he will. Until then Alexander should toe the line over what is acceptable and what isn't.

"Well I think you have done a good job of keeping it up, I mean it looks like a museum in here."

George laughs which surprises Alexander but he smiles, glad to have broken the somber silence. "Thank you, although my wife said we should have updated the place, put away all the old trinkets. I think she might have been right."

Alexander's lips quirk up into a smile before saying, "It is a little overwhelming at times, but hey I'm no interior designer. I'm sure people who are a little…older might appreciate the decor."

"Are you calling me old? I suppose you might be right, I'm not exactly young and most of the guests aren't either. If I want twenty somethings the house better reflect that," George murmurs.

Alexander's response is interrupted by the buzzing of his phone. He digs it out from the pocket of his sweats to see Burr calling. Alexander debates on answering it but honestly, he'd rather not. If it's something life or death related he can leave a message. And perhaps it is childish to not answer the call but either way Alexander puts his phone down and lets the call go to voicemail. He'll deal with Burr later.

"Your boss?" George asks.

"No, co-counsel. He's…frustrating to work with. A fantastic lawyer but so tightly wound that some days I feel the urge to drink myself into a stupor." Alexander confesses.

George is grinning when Alexander looks at him and Alexander matches it. There's a comfortableness about George that Alexander hasn't felt in a long time. He's not used to someone who seems to be so understanding and kind. It makes his chest pull tight, a feeling he hasn't had in a long time and in some ways, that terrifies him. 

"I should get back to work," Alexander says, biting his bottom lip.

"Of course, I won't bother you, let me know if there is something you need or want," George replies.

Alexander nods and slips his earbuds into his ear and looks back to the screen, mind on everything but his work as he types away.  
_____

Alexander works for a few hours, emailing Burr back when he demands to know why Alexander isn't answering his phone. It's easy to tell Burr a little white lie, that the reception is spotty and he'll get in touch when he's not in the middle of a blizzard. Burr doesn't have to know the truth.

George moves around the house, does a bit of housework but mostly keeps to himself and Alexander appreciates the effort the man goes to so that Alexander has peace and quiet to work. It allows Alexander to get a good portion of his work done, which means he can actually take a break and stretch, which allows his muscles to scream in relief when he arches his back, hands above his head.

 

The room is silent when Alexander takes out his earbuds, the only sound is still the weather from outside. He can't help but shiver when he moves to stand, the room far colder than it was hours ago. Alexander moves to stand, heading in search of George. He's not in any of the usual places and Alexander makes his way down the hall, sees a soft light emerging from a room Alexander has not yet seen.

Part of Alexander's brain tells him to not impose, he should leave George be, but the other part (the one he listens to) tells him to keep going. He pushes the door open ever so slightly, finds George sitting on a small couch, holding a picture in his hands. Alexander doesn't see the photo at first but when George adjusts it sightly he can see the smiling faces, George holding the woman close to him and Alexander realizes it is his wife.

The guilt his Alexander like a ton of bricks and he wants to back out, act as if he saw nothing but George sees him before he can escape. Alexander is frozen on the spot, mouth slightly parted but George only gives him a soft smile, moving to put the frame back on the wall. 

"Is there something I can get you?" George asks.

Alexander is dumbfounded. Here he is snooping, imposing on a private moment and yet George is asking if there's something Alexander wants. 

"No, no I was just….wondering where you were. I'm sorry for intruding," Alexander says, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Don't be. It's fine, I assumed you might find me. It's okay, you don't have to feel bad about it," George answers, moving to stand. He reaches for the lamp to turn the light off, leading Alexander out of the room before closing the door behind them.

They stand in the darkened hallway, Alexander's eyes adjusting to the lack of light as he looks at George. It's the closest he has been to the other man since arriving and it allows for him to get a good look, to see the lines in the corner of his eyes, the stubble that peppers his cheeks and jawline. Alexander resists the urge to run his fingers over it, to turn George's head just enough to kiss him.

After all there is nothing that indicts to Alexander that George would even be interested and if he's going to be here another few days, he should probably not push his luck. So he resists, keeps his hands in a ball inside the pocket of his sweatshirt.

He shivers, his lips shaking with the cold and he doesn't realize how loud he must be, not until George puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes it, asking, "Are you okay? Your lips are trembling."

"I'm just a little cold, that's all. I get like this in New York too sometimes," Alexander answers truthfully.

"We can go back into the living room, I'll put the fire on," George says he he leads Alexander back to the front.

Alexander would protest, would tell George to not bother with it but it is pointless when the other man is already kneeling down, throwing the wood pieces into the fireplace and lighting them. Alexander moves to get down onto the floor, sitting in front of the fire as it crackles to life. Alexander instantly feels the life coming back to his fingers and toes, his nose no longer cold as ice.

George leaves once more, coming back eventually with two bowls in his hands. He carefully lowers one and Alexander happily takes it, hands curling around the bowl as he blows onto the hot soup. He remembers his mother doing the same for him on the rare cold nights, always making sure that he had something to eat no matter how little it was. Alexander closes his eyes briefly, thinks about his mother and the older he gets, the harder it is to remember her face, her voice. 

He misses her all the same, will never stop longing for her to be alive once more.

Alexander opens his eyes and slowly eats his food and he can hear George's spoon clinking against his own bowl. Alexander wonders if George can remember his wife's voice, wonders if the ache has subsided in his chest but Alexander knows it is a feeling that never goes away. It remains a constant reminder. 

When he finishes, Alexander turns and finds George watching him, gaze directed at Alexander and he doesn't look away, no even when Alexander moves closer, his bowl left forgotten on the coffee table. Alexander isn't sure how far he should go, how close he should get to George but even when he's up on the couch, George doesn't push him away. Instead he invites Alexander to come closer, puts his arm over the back of the couch and Alexander slots into the space next to George.

They are touching, thigh to thigh and Alexander places his hands in his lap, wanting nothing more than to reach over and touch George but he won't. Instead he leans his head back, rests it against George's arm, just to test the waters. They stay like that for quite some time, both of them happy to sit and enjoy the fire, watching as it burns down. Alexander finds that he has moved even closer to George, head practically on George's shoulder and he would move, except that George's hand has dropped to his waist, fingers moving in slow circles.

Alexander hitches his breath and turns his head ever so slightly, presses his mouth against George's neck as he closes his eyes. He wants to stay like this, wants to fall asleep with another body next to his and he hopes that George wants the same. 

"Stay," Alexander says as his hand reaches out to grab a fistful of George's sweater.

"Okay," George says. 

Alexander finds himself slowly nodding off, his hands holding onto George as if he is afraid the other man will leave, the last thought in his head is that of George's fingers on the back of his neck.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander wakes to find himself on the couch still, although he is now covered with a thick blanket. He stretches before curling in on himself, his mind still thick with sleep. His eyes are half lidded as he turns to his side, faces the fireplace which is burning more brightly than when he fell asleep which means George must be up and awake somewhere in the house. His mind tells him to get up but his body screams for him to stay curled up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow sorry this took so long. My life has been hellish recently but I finally got the chance to write. So here's 4k!

Alexander wakes to find himself on the couch still, although he is now covered with a thick blanket. He stretches before curling in on himself, his mind still thick with sleep. His eyes are half lidded as he turns to his side, faces the fireplace which is burning more brightly than when he fell asleep which means George must be up and awake somewhere in the house. His mind tells him to get up but his body screams for him to stay curled up

As his mind is pulled from the fog of sleep, he is reminded of what happened last night. The hands in his hair, the gentle kisses against George's neck. Alexander can feel his own neck flush with guilt, with want as well. His heart thuds fast and hard against his chest and he wonders what the hell overcome him, clearly unable to control his emotions and feelings. If only he could blame it on something like wine, brush it aside as a side effect of an unclear mind.

But that is not the case, no, in fact Alexander remembers everything clearly, every moment of the two of them inching closer to each other and in fact, Alexander knows that George never pushed him away, only pulled him closer - he wanted it as much as Alexander did. And that makes Alexander's heart leap into his throat. He simply cannot open himself to someone, cannot have feelings for someone he barely knows.

Alexander kicks the blanket away from his body and stands, moving quickly up the stairs to his room where he reaches for whatever clean clothes exist and head to the bathroom, turning the water on as warm as his body will stand, not to warm himself from the cold but to scrub away all ill thoughts; he isn't ashamed clearly of any sexual desire, that is something he can excuse as a normal response, sex is something that can exist without feelings. No his fault lies in the feelings he attaches to people far too quickly. It's what all of his lovers have said about him, that he falls too hard and too fast.

And it's true, with John and with Eliza, both of whom he was ready to give everything to, unable to go slow. John had told him that it isn't a bad thing, that it's just who Alex is, clearly looking for the love that he needed, that he craved. John would have been his one and only if…well if he hadn't been taken so quickly, so cruelly.

Alexander sighs heavily and feels his shoulders slump, his thoughts weighing heavily on him. He finishes the shower feeling no better than before, wet hair dripping down onto his shoulders, soaking through his shirt as he dresses. He dries it again with his towel before sloppily throwing it up into some sort of haphazard bun. When Alexander exits the bathroom he takes a glance in either direction before going to his room, packing away his things. The only thing he can do is leave, not sure how he will make it back but he's willing to figure it out.

He can't do that without his phone which of course is not in his room, but left abandoned downstairs. Alexander scrunches his face up in annoyance but heads out, carefully treading down the stairs so they will not creak. Of course it is useless when he sees George downstairs anyway, carefully folding up the blanket that Alexander left discarded on the couch. He smiles at Alexander, bright and white and Alexander feels that familiar clenching in his chest, his heart once against leaping in his throat.

"Good morning. I am going to make breakfast, if you'd like a request," George says as he finishes folding his blanket.

Alexander shakes his head. "Anything will be fine. I should go, after today. Get back up to New York, so I'm going to look for bus or plane tickets."

A look goes across George's face, once Alexander cannot read but he nods all the same before answering, "I could drive you. My truck is capable of deal with the snow. If you'd like, that is."

Alexander wants to refuse, wants to be stubborn for a moment but the practical part of his mind tells him that bus and plane tickets are going to be sparse and hard to find. He'd most likely spend more time in D.C. than if he just accepted George's offer.

"Do you really want to spend 10 hours just to drive me home?" Alexander asks.

"I don't have much else to do," George replies with a shrug.

Alexander wants to fight off the grin that forms on his face but he can't, instead ducking so that George hopefully doesn't see it. He rubs at his face, re-adjusting his glasses as they go crooked on the bridge of his nose.

"If you insist. I hope you don't mind if I sleep on the way up, I tend to get car sick," Alexander says.

"It's not a problem, really, the company will be nice either way."

George moves closer and Alexander wonders what he will do, the nervous panic rising in his stomach. But George simply squeezes Alexander's shoulder as he passes by, heading back towards the kitchen. Alexander lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, feeling incredibly stupid for how he's reacting, after all it was his initiation and feelings that started it all.

Luckily he's saved by the ding of his phone which he checks to see Aaron asking when the hell he's coming by. Alexander responds he will be leaving the following morning, that he'll take the day to finish up and work on a few more things here. It's a weak excuse to keep away from George, he really can't do much else on this end but if nothing else he'll spend the day in a coffee shop where he can work with headphones in, free from distraction.

He heads up to grab his computer bag, making sure he has all his cords and documents before heading down with his shoes and coat. He places it all on the couch before joining George in the kitchen. The intoxicating smell of coffee hits him first before the smell of french toast does. He can't help but feel his stomach growl in anticipation of food. George turns to face him when Alexander heads over to grab a mug from the rack, pouring his coffee before standing across from George.

George closes the space, leaving the stove for a second to stand in front of Alexander, his size once again imposing but not in a terrifying way, more in a comfort of having someone who could probably snap a man in half. Yet when he reaches to push the loose hair from Alexander's eyes, he's tender in a way that Alexander doesn't expect. His fingers are soft and gentle as they tuck the hair behind Alexander's ears and Alexander can barely swallow the lump down his throat.

"I'm sorry if what happened last night was too much," George says.

Alexander snaps his eyes up to meet George's gaze. He should be apologizing, for being so standoffish and for being the one who initiated it all. He wouldn't be feeling so shitty if in fact he hadn't acted on impulse and yet…he still doesn't necessarily regret it. He did want it, does want it. He's torn between the feeling of diving headfirst into the unknown, of the feelings he may be giving into and the feeling of wanting someone who wants him, who will care for him.

"It's not…that. It was perfect but it shouldn't have happened."

Alexander watches as George's eyebrows knit together in confusion. He isn't sure what Alexander means and honestly, Alexander isn't even sure what he is saying anymore. Alexander gnaws at his lower lip, reaching to smooth away the worry in George's forehead. It helps some, Alexander can see George soften under the touch and it makes Alexander's heart ache for completely different reasons than before.

George says nothing but reaches to take Alexander's hand in his own, thumb stroking over the back of it, fingers perfectly placed on the inside of Alexander's where they can Alexander's heartbeat, racing fast. George lifts Alexander's hand and kisses the back of it, a simple and cheesy gesture, but one that Alexander feels suggest far too many feelings on George's part.

He is a man of few words but his gestures it seems, says everything. And that tends to scare Alexander for he cannot read the man that well but if he looks back at the past few days, the signs are there. Perhaps George has felt for him since their first meeting, a spark that Alexander was either unaware of or oblivious to.

George moves from Alexander, returning to the stove to finish up the food and platting it, Alexander moving with weak knees to the kitchen counter with his coffee. George brings the food over, the two of them sitting silently as they eat their breakfast, Alexander barely taking a break to breath, wanting nothing more than to hurry out of their. He finishes before George is even halfway done and he goes to rinse his plate, leaving it for George to properly wash. He chugs the last of his coffee, tepid from sitting out for so long but Alexander doesn't mind, he's had worse honestly.

"I'm going into the city, I have to finish up a few things before I head back. I'm just going to Uber it," Alexander announces as he reaches to make sure he has his wallet.

"I could drive you. I need to stop by the store so it wouldn't be out of the way really," George says.

Alexander thinks about it and well, the offer to save money is one reason he nods in agreement, no matter how awkward things may be between them. Being broke is a far worse place to be in really.

It doesn't take long for George to get ready, Alexander impatiently waiting on the couch, leg bouncing as he nervously bites his nails. George steps into the room, his keys in hand and Alexander practically jumps up, slinging his bag around his neck as he steps outside with George.

The air is still bitterly cold but it's clear and bright, the storm no longer a threat. The snow that is left behind looks picturesque, like something out of a painting that would hang in a living room. Alexander would pull out his phone to snap a photo if he didn't feel like his fingers would fall off leaving his pockets. It's bad enough having to remove one hand to open the door of George's truck, grateful for the heat that hits his face as soon as the truck is turned on.

_____

They ride in mostly silence, the only real sound is the engine and the talk radio that's turned down low but still, Alexander can lend an ear to catch bits of pieces of the news he's missed. Despite the almost uncomfortableness of it all, it's a quick trip with Alexander giving the name of the law office of the prosecution. He has no business with them but it's less awkward than the address of a Starbucks which would tell George that yes, Alexander does not want to be in his presence.

George pulls up to the curb and Alexander hops out, grabbing his bag and giving George a quick and small smile. George returns it and Alexander clears his throat, saying, "I'll call or text. It might be late before I come back so I can always figure it out. Thanks for the ride."

"You're welcome. And it's no hassle to come and get you. Just let me know."

Alexander nods and shuts the door, turning to walk towards the building and he prays that George does not sit and watch him go inside. Luckily Alexander can hear the truck pull away and he turns his head far enough to see George head to the light, turning left and with that, he's lost to traffic.

Alexander makes sure he's out of sight before turning around and heading down the street to the coffee shop, going in and finding a table in the back. He breathes a sigh of relief as he starts his computer up before heading to order a coffee, knows the policy of needing to be a customer to use free wi-fi and he doesn't want to hear the barista nag him for taking up space.

It's not an ideal situation, Alexander would rather be back in New York, even if it means arguing with Burr half the time. It's what he knows, it's what is comfortable. And all of this, all the feelings, Alexander isn't sure what purpose they serve in his life except to be a distraction which is the last thing he needs. He doesn't need to spend his days with someone who is twice his age. It's ridiculous he's even thought about George in that way.

There is a gnawing feeling in Alexander's stomach as he thinks about the night he touched himself, worries about what George would think if he knew. Alexander is sure George would be horrified by the idea and it makes Alexander feel twice as bad as he already did.

He tries to focus on his work but his mind can't seem to do that, no matter how hard he tries. He re-reads the same bit of paper at least 15 times before he sighs and throws it down, reaching to take his glasses off so he can press his fingers to his temples. There's the sign of an impending migraine and he should try and stave it off before it gets worse, before he's begging George to come pick him up because he can't even blink without feeling sick. That is not a situation he wants.

Alexander saves what little work he has accomplished before putting everything into his backpack and slinging it over his shoulders. He tosses his empty coffee cup on the way out, stepping back out into the cold. He tugs his scarf around his neck a little tighter before heading out to clear his mind. It's probably not the best idea in the world, it's too cold and his shoes are honestly more appropriate for an office or casual dinner than they are for walking but he makes do of his impromptu sightseeing tour.

He doesn't make it far, only gets close to the White House before he genuinely worries about the threat of possible pneumonia. He pulls out his phone as best he can, his fingers barely able to work as he looks for the closest restaurant before mapping it out and heading there. He must be a sight to see when he arrives, face probably red from the wind and cold, but he doesn't mind, just happy to be back inside a building with heat.

The waitress takes his drink order, Alexander opting for a glass of wine and a water on the side, just glances over the menu before settling on something simple. His fingers itch as he looks down at his phone lying on the table, fights back the urge to call George and ask him to come back into the city. It's a ridiculous notion, inviting the man to lunch is inviting him on a date and that's something that Alexander is not about to engage in.

So he instead eats lunch alone, catches up on some emails that he has ignored during this whole trip and communicates with Burr about their impending trial. Alexander isn't sure if it's the wine or food or whatever but he manages to clear his head of thoughts about George, finally is able to focus on something else but his feelings. When he's done with lunch he gathers up his things and heads to the bar, situating himself near the corner end of it and sets up shop once more, figures it is not unusual in a city like D.C. for people to work in all sorts of strange locations.

Time passes quickly and before Alexander knows it, it's nearing 5 pm and he thinks that he should call it a day, at least head back to George's place. He pack up and heads outside, pulling out a phone to get an Uber back. The car arrives within a few minutes and he gets in the back, sending a quick text to George that he's on his way back.

Evening commute traffic means they sit for awhile, Alexander half dozing as he feels the car lurch to a start and stop every few minutes. In the end, he does make it back to George's, not before feeling tired and hungry, the feeling of a migraine coming back on. He leaves the car and heads inside, toeing off his shoes by the door and leaving his bag on the couch, heading to the light that is coming from the kitchen.

George is there, a sight that Alexander has come accustomed to seeing during his few days stay. Alexander moves to sit across from George at the small table that's in the breakfast nook, watches as George carefully and quickly slices up various peppers before throwing them in a bowl. Alexander stretches his legs out, feet bumping against George's own and he fights the urge to be awkward about it.

"So, I want to apologize for how I've been acting. Especially since last night was my doing," Alexander starts, clearing his throat before continuing, "And I think that I wouldn't and can't be someone who is good for you."

Alexander watches as George stops his work, looking up to meet Alexander's gaze and they stay like that for a few seconds, Alexander feeling the shame beginning to rise.

"I think that I should be the one to decide whether or not you are good for me," George says.

Alexander blinks, surprised by George's answer. It's a reasonable one and it makes sense, of course George should decide whether or not he wants Alexander around. It also makes Alexander feel entirely like shit about the way he's been acting, clearly irrational in his thoughts and how he's reacted to a little cuddling on the couch.

 

He exhales, nods before he reaches to trace a finger over George's wrist. George doesn't move to reciprocate the touch but when Alexander looks at his face, he can see the hint of smile forming on George's face.

And there's a million things Alexander wants to say but he thinks none of them are helpful. He could wax poetry about why he isn't a great partner but then again, George isn't asking for that sort of commitment either, hell he isn't even asking Alexander to be a lover. In fact Alexander isn't even sure what they could be after all of this, save for maybe friends with benefits except well, there have been no benefits.

So he supposes that for once, he should stop thinking and let whatever it is happen naturally. That's what John had told him, to go with the flow and to stop worrying about every little thing on earth because there are some things he just cannot fix or prevent from happening. Words of advice that Alexander had rolled his eyes at it then, the advice now seems like something he should actively do. 

"I think that perhaps you are right, maybe I should let you decide whether or not you want me around" Alexander responds after quite some time.

George looks up from his resumed task of preparing dinner to smile, a real one and says, "I think we should both decide on what's right, I just hope that you will stick around." 

He stands and gathers the food, tucking the bowl around one arm before extending a hand out. Alexander looks at it and hesitates for a half a second before taking the hand and standing. They'll take on dinner first. One thing at a time Alexander thinks.   
_____

They do dinner together. It feels natural, Alexander helping in whatever way George needs, the conversation flowing better than it has the whole trip, Alexander feeling relaxed enough to laugh loud, leaning on George as he tells a joke. It's comfortable, Alexander enjoying the way that George leaves little touches of affection, whether it be a squeeze of Alexander's shoulder or his thumb stroking over Alexander's wrist. It's as tender as it was earlier in the morning but Alexander feels far better about receiving it this time. 

He washes the dishes for George, putting them on the rack to dry while George pulls down a bottle of whiskey from a cabinet, pouring a glass for each of them. Alexander joins him in the living room when he has finished, taking the glass that George extends to him. Alexander swirls it around before taking a sip of it. It's stronger than what he is used to, prefers to have something to chase it with but he doesn't mind it.

"My wife was my first and only relationship in my life," George says before pausing, "I had feelings before that of course but I had never...given into them let's just say. In those days, even thinking of another man was bad enough, let alone figuring out how to be discreet." 

"When my wife got sick, she told me she hoped I would find someone. She said I wouldn't be good on my own, not that I can't take care of myself, but I get lonely fast. I prefer having someone with me. And while I hoped to find someone, I didn't expect that it would be a man, considering I don't do bars and I don't do online dating. Technology isn't for me."

George laughs at that and Alexander smiles, bridges the gap between them even more and lets his fingers rest on the back of George's neck, gently squeezing the muscle there to release the tension. Alexander knows there is a point to the story and he will let George get to it in his own time, won't pull it out of him. 

"I like you Alexander, I know that we barely know each other. But I feel very comfortable when you are around. And if i'm honest, I haven't had many interactions with other people, not in the way you and I have. I would like for that to continue." 

George turns to face Alexander, glancing down at his glass in his hands before he leans in, Alexander meeting him halfway for the kiss. It's not earth shattering or anything like that, just a simple, chaste kiss. George's lips are soft, unlike his own and they feel wonderful. It's been so long since Alexander has kissed someone and it's rewarding, no matter how simple it is. 

They pull away after a few minutes, Alexander sitting forward so he can place his glass down on the coffee table, moving to lay his hands on George's chest, can feel how broad and toned the muscles are beneath the thick shirt. Alexander moves them down over George's biceps and forearms before taking George's hands in his own, just rests them there. Neither of them make any moves to change, both of them content to sit just this way. 

Alexander doesn't know how long they sit like that, with the sound of the grandfather clock ticking away in the corner and the occasional sound of the wind hitting the side of the house. Alexander watches as George moves one hand to stifle back a yawn and Alexander smiles, reaches a hand up to stroke George's cheek before leaning to kiss him gently. 

"Go to sleep. We have a long enough drive in the morning."

George doesn't even protest, just nods and moves to stand up, Alexander steadying him. He doesn't want to leave this spot but he knows that they both need sleep. George turns off the lights, Alexander flicking on the hall light so they won't trip up the stairs. They go together, Alexander behind George and they get to the top where they stop, Alexander pulling George close. They fall into a hug together, Alexander tucking his head under George's chin, feels the burn of George's stubble as he turns his head up, the rough hair rubbing against his forehead. 

Alexander could stay like this, could take it farther but honestly it is one step at a time. Not diving head first but to slowly tread water before making it to the deep end. So instead of pulling George to his room, to feel their bodies press together, Alexander moves back and gives George a smile, lets his hand ghost over George's face.

"Go, before I do something ridiculous like kiss you again."

George grins and moves to his room, not before stepping back and kissing Alexander once more. Alexander feels the flutter in his heart and he can't help but touch his lips after George's room closes. 

And when he settles into his bed that night he remembers the way George's body felt against his, dreams of feeling it once more.


End file.
